by Rebecca York
“Thanks,” Elizabeth answered, feeling let down. Turning to Matt, she said, “We should go to Houma and see what we can find out about the clinic.”
“I did some more research after you went to sleep last night,” he said.
“And?”
“I told you that a nurse who had worked there died in the explosion with Dr. Solomon.”
“But what?” She cut him a quick look. “You’re keeping me from knowing what you’re thinking.”
“Good because the technique is working. There’s another one of Solomon’s staffers living at a nursing home in Houma. Her name’s Maven Bolton. Maybe there’s something she can tell us about Dr. Solomon’s operation.”
“Did you look up Houma?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes. The population is around 33,000. You can book swamp tours and fishing expeditions, eat spicy Cajun food and walk bird trails in the wildlife park.”
“The town’s not all that large. I mean for someone to locate an important clinic there.”
“Maybe he wanted a specific kind of environment. It has a long and proud past, and a historic downtown area. The Terrebonne Parish Courthouse is there, which would mean it was a center of local activity.”
“Was there anything about the Solomon Clinic?”
“Actually I know where it used to be.”
“I’d like to see it. How far away is it?”
“A little over an hour.”
“We can have lunch in town.”
They arrived on schedule and drove around Houma, noting that the historic center was probably much as it had been for years, with newer development on the outskirts.
As they crossed a bridge, Elizabeth said, “The place is full of rivers and bayous.”
“Yes. It’s almost like some of the sections of town are islands.”
“It’s got a lot of atmosphere, but just being here makes me feel...nervous,” Elizabeth mused as they drove up and down tree-shaded streets where large old houses sat on generous plots. She was silent for several moments, then said, “Can you find Dr. Solomon’s lab? The one where he was killed?”
Matt consulted his smartphone, where he’d put some addresses. “It’s not too far from here.”
He punched the street and number into the GPS, and they drove for a few more blocks, stopping in front of a large redbrick house that had been heavily damaged. Behind it was another building that was totally destroyed.
“Why did he have his lab in a residential area?” Elizabeth asked. “Did he live here, too?”
“Actually this was the home of the nurse who died.”
“Which implied that they had some sort of close relationship. I want to get out,” Elizabeth whispered. Even when she knew Matt thought it was a bad idea, she opened the door and exited the car.
Behind her, he pulled closer to the curb, cut the engine and followed her up the driveway. She stood for a moment, staring at the house with its boarded-up windows and blackened bricks, then skirted around to the real scene of destruction.
She could see an enormous hole in the ground, filled with debris. Pieces of wood, cinder blocks, medical equipment and furniture were scattered around the rubble.
“It looks like nobody’s been here to clean up,” she whispered as Matt came up behind her.
“Maybe there’s a question of ownership.”
She looked up and down the street at the well-kept houses and yards.
“They can’t leave it forever,” he said, following her thoughts.
She made a derisive sound. “There was a swimming pool in Baltimore that kids used all the time. I mean kids whose parents couldn’t afford a country club. The owner tore it down, and we all thought they had sold the land for houses or apartments. That was fifteen years ago, and it’s still sitting empty.”
“But the pool owners didn’t leave a mess, did they?”
“No.”
Matt nodded and stepped closer to the pit, looking down into the tangle of debris.
“I see a lot of medical equipment—some of it expensive.”
“Like what?”
He pointed. “There’s a mangled X-ray machine. A couple exam tables. Cabinets that probably held drugs. An EKG machine. Centrifuges. A spectrophotometer. It looks like the doctor had plenty of money to spend on his research project.”
“I wonder what he was doing. Do you think it was related to the clinic?”
“Or something new. It looks like it was paying off.” He turned to her. “We shouldn’t stick around here.”
“I know. I just wanted to see what it looked like.” She shuddered. “And try to figure out what happened. You think this place was really destroyed by a gas leak?”
“I don’t know.” He dragged in a breath and let it out. “I don’t smell anything like explosives.”
“It was a few months ago.”
He picked up a stick from the ground, walked to a pile of debris and turned over some charred pieces of wood and paper.
“But the smell would linger,” he said.
“What else could do so much damage?”
“I’d like to know.”
She gave him a long look. “If...uh...somebody had a lot of time to practice, do you think they could blow up a building the way we’ve been zapping people and rocks?”
His head whipped toward her. “You’re thinking people like us could have done it?”
“Could they?”
“Not just two people, I don’t think.”
She shivered. “What if...”
He waited for her to finish the thought, but she shrugged. “I’m not going there.”
They returned to the car and Matt pulled away, checking in his rearview mirror as he turned the corner.
“You think someone could follow us from here?” Elizabeth asked.
“It could be under surveillance, and I’m not taking any chances.”
He kept checking behind them as they headed for the business district where they found several restaurants and some antique shops.
“There’s where the clinic used to be,” Matt said, pointing to a building that looked more modern than many of those around it.
“Was it torn down?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe Mrs. Bolton can enlighten us. I guess it’s time to talk to her.” Elizabeth sighed. “I wonder why I want to put it off.”
“Maybe you’re afraid you’re not going to like what we hear.”
“Then let’s get it over with and eat later. The more we know, the better off we are.”
They arrived at the nursing home before lunch. The facility was an attractive looking one-story redbrick residence and nursing facility for the elderly.
“I hope we can get something out of this interview,” Elizabeth said as they pulled into the parking lot and Matt cut the engine. “I mean, if she’s in a nursing home, maybe her mind is going.”
“Or maybe she’s just not capable of living on her own.”
Elizabeth nodded, trying not to dwell on her doubts as she scanned the building and grounds. “It’s well maintained.”
“It might be a nice place to retire,” Matt said as they followed a winding path through well-tended gardens.
Just beyond the double doors was a reception area where a young woman sat at an antique desk.
Her name tag identified her as Sarah Dalton.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a gracious southern accent.
“We’d like to visit with Maven Bolton.”
She tipped her head to one side, studying them. “Another couple to visit Maven. I wonder why she’s gotten very popular.”
“There have been other couples coming to see her?” Matt asked.
“Why, yes. Two others.�
��
“Who?”
“I didn’t know them. But Maven told me that one of the women was named Rachel.”
Elizabeth tensed. “From New Orleans?”
“I don’t know for sure. How do you know Maven?”
“We...we’re old friends,” Matt answered.
“They were, as well.”
That sounds weird. Should we leave? Elizabeth silently asked Matt.
No.
But who were they? I mean, could Rachel have been the tarot-card reader?
Maybe we’ll find out.
“I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you,” Ms. Dalton said. “Maven should be in the dayroom now.”
They followed the employee down a wide hallway with nature pictures on the walls, to a pleasantly large recreation room with windows looking out onto the gardens.
About twenty women and a few men were sitting around the room. Some were in wheelchairs. Others were in easy chairs watching television or at tables playing cards or working puzzles.
Ms. Dalton led them to a woman who was seated by the window with a magazine in her lap. She had short gray hair and a wrinkled face, and she was wearing a nice-looking black-and-white blouse and black slacks.
“Some people to see you, Maven.”
The older woman looked up a bit apprehensively.
“We just stopped in to say hello,” Matt said. They both pulled up chairs and sat down.
After a few moments the attendant left them.
The old woman silently studied the visitors. “Are you like that other couple?”
The receptionist had also said something similar.
“I don’t know. What can you tell us about them?” Elizabeth said carefully, pulling her chair a little closer.
“They were both getting married. They wanted information about...the Solomon Clinic.”
Elizabeth tried to keep her voice even and her face neutral while her heart was clunking inside her chest so hard that she was surprised her blouse wasn’t moving up and down. “Why?”
“I shouldn’t talk about it. It was supposed to be a secret.”
Chapter Nineteen
Elizabeth looked at Matt, then back at the old woman who might be able to tell them what had really been going on at the Solomon Clinic.
But you want to tell us about the clinic. You worked there years ago. It’s all right to talk about it now.
Maven looked uncertain, and Matt repeated the suggestion and added, It’s all right to talk to us. We won’t tell anyone else.
Elizabeth waited with her heart pounding for the woman to speak.
Maven lowered her voice. “Their mothers had fertility treatments from Dr. Solomon.”
“That’s not so unusual,” Matt answered.
“Yes. But Dr. Solomon doesn’t like me to talk about that. Not since the clinic burned down.”
“It burned?”
“Why, yes. It was at night, so nobody was hurt, thank the Lord.”
I guess she doesn’t know Solomon’s dead, Matt silently commented.
And from her tone of voice, it seems she was afraid of him.
“We won’t tell anyone,” Elizabeth repeated Matt’s earlier assurance. She gently put her hand on the old woman’s arm. “What can you tell us?”
Matt soundlessly reinforced the question.
“Well, you know, the doctor ran it like a fertility clinic. That’s how he got the babies. But he was really doing experiments on those children before they were born. He thought we didn’t know, well, all except Dorothy. She was his pet.”
“Experiments?” Elizabeth asked carefully. “What was he trying to do to them?”
“Make them supersmart,” the old woman said as though she were confiding the nuclear-launch codes. “That’s why he had the children come back for tests. But he was disappointed because they didn’t seem any different from ordinary children.”
“He was doing brain experiments?” Matt asked.
“Didn’t I say that?”
“Not exactly.”
“He was so excited when he started. He was sure his techniques were going to produce something extraordinary. Then he couldn’t understand why they weren’t working.” The woman’s expression suddenly closed. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about any of this.” She raised her head. “I should call Sarah.”
“No need,” Matt said. “We won’t ask you any more questions.”
She turned her head away, and Elizabeth looked up to see that some of the residents were staring at the scene.
We’re attracting attention.
We’d better go.
She and Matt got up and left the dayroom, then hurried down the hall, retracing their steps.
“I think we found out what we wanted to know about the clinic,” Matt said when they were back in the hall. “I think he was working with fertilized eggs, operating on the blastocytes, the first hundred cells that develop.”
“Back then? Isn’t that kind of advanced?”
“I guess you could say he was a genius.”
“An evil genius. He was using eggs he had no right to. He was playing with people’s lives.”
“Obviously he thought the end justified the means. And he didn’t care who got hurt in the process. But it didn’t work out the way he thought it would. He was altering these babies’ brains, but instead of making them smart, he created potential telepaths.”
She nodded.
“And creating people who were doomed to lead miserable lives—unless they met someone else who was a product of the experiment.”
“How many more of us are there, do you think?” Elizabeth asked.
“That’s something we should try to find out.”
“And it sounds like we’re not the first couple that got together.”
They both stopped short as they considered the implications.
“Let’s say that the woman who was probing my thoughts is one of us,” she said.
“That’s a stretch.”
“Who else?”
He shrugged.
“And let’s say that, for some reason, she and her partner blew up Dr. Solomon’s clinic.”
“An even bigger stretch,” Matt said. “But an important question is, are the other people friendly to each other or hostile?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Why would they be hostile?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to consider every angle.”
“Like what?”
“Okay, then, who is it that was trying to get information about us—at your house? Some of the other adults who were born as a result of the project?”
“Or someone else.”
They had reached the front door, and Matt pulled it open.
She grabbed his arm, stopping him from walking out on the porch.
“What?” Matt asked.
“There’s a car next to ours.”
“Another visitor.”
“I don’t think so.”
As they watched, two men got out. Both of them were wearing sport shirts, casual slacks and what looked like football helmets.
Matt stared at them. Football helmets?
I don’t like it.
When they saw Elizabeth and Matt they started rapidly up the walk toward the building, and the expressions on their faces weren’t particularly friendly.
“What are we going to do now?” she asked.
“Find the back exit.”
The receptionist looked up at them as they hurried down the hall in the direction they’d just come from.
“You can’t just go back there again,” she called.
Matt turned toward her.
Two men are headed thi
s way. They’re thugs. Keep them from following us.
Praying that the mental suggestion was going to give them a little extra time, Elizabeth kept pace with Matt.
He took a side hallway, then dodged into one of the rooms. A woman was in a hospital bed watching television. She looked up in alarm as two strangers charged into her room.
“Who are you?”
We’re friends. Just keep calm. Don’t tell anyone we were here, Matt instructed as he crossed to the window.
It was of the casement variety, and he turned the crank, then used his foot to knock out the screen.
“Go on,” he said to Elizabeth.
With no other choice, she swung one leg over the sill, then levered herself the rest of the way out, glad that it was only a few feet to the ground.
Come on, she called to Matt.
I wish I could close the window, but I can’t crank it from the outside.
Just get out of there.
To her relief, Matt stuck his foot out the window, then his head and shoulder. He lowered himself to the lawn, and they looked around. The grounds of the nursing home were well kept, but beyond them was a scraggly area that bordered one of the bayous that cut across the town.
Can we make it to the car? Elizabeth asked.
Not directly. He looked toward the scruffy area, where the trees and bushes would give them some cover. Maybe we can work our way around.
You think there are just the two guys?
I wish I knew.
Why are they after us? Elizabeth asked.
I’m guessing someone has a clue about the children from the Solomon Clinic, and they want more information. Or they are children from the clinic, and they know we could screw with their minds—so they rigged up some protective gear.
Unfortunately.
From inside the nursing home, they could hear running feet and knew they didn’t have much time to make a getaway.
Matt took the lead, moving alongside the building until they were closer to the wooded area.
When the distance was as short as it was going to get, he looked back at Elizabeth. I’m going first. If I make it across without getting shot, you follow.
His thoughts confirmed that he hated putting it that way, but he didn’t see any alternative.
With her heart in her mouth, she watched Matt dash across the open space to the scrubby patch of land beyond the manicured lawn.
